Where's Ireland!
by Little Bookwyrm
Summary: A oneshot fanfic that my sister wrote for her English class, telling about the hilarious and comedic relationships of the United Kingdom house. Rated T for language and "content".


**This was written by my sister for her English class earlier in the year. Except for England, the others are OCs. This is the uncensored (as in language) version, so hope you enjoy it.**

"Ireland!" a rage filled Scottish accent filled the halls of the United Kingdom home. It was shortly followed by the loud slam of a bedroom door.

The brick-red haired Scotland angrily shuffled down the hall, stomped down the stairs, and eyed the inhabitants of the living room nastily. His emerald green eyes flickered from the timid brunette Wales who was resting uneasily on the couch with his violin, to the mildly upset blonde England that had an annoyed frown on his face from the Scot's outburst, and finally to the calm and inattentive North Ireland what was perched comfortably in an easy chair enjoying a copy of Pride and Prejudice.

"North," Scotland said sternly to the oblivious boy.

North's eyes didn't leave his book and his eyebrows arched into a carefree expression that showed that he had no interest in what Scotland had to vent about. "Hmm?"

"Where's Ireland?"

"What does it matter, Scotland?" England piped up from his seat next to Wales on the couch.

Scotland whirled on England and shot daggers at the poor abused Brit with his eyes. Then, to Wales, very much angered at the blonde's words, "Get 'im out of 'ere before I kill 'im. Get that git out of my sight. Now."

Wales scooped up his violin in one arm, snatched up the bow with the same hand, and whisked the protesting Brit out of the room; leaving Scotland and North by themselves.

"So where's Ireland?" Scotland returned his attention to North who seemed unaffected by the slight fight that had just taken place before him.

"I wouldn't know…" a small twitch caused one corner of North's lips to turn up into a smirk. "What did 'e do this time?"

"Your damn twin stole me kilt; again." Scotland's emerald eyes darkened with rage. "Now where is the brat?"

"I don't waste me time watching the brat…" North mimicked Scotland casually and laughed to himself inwardly as he imagined a thermometer representing the Scot's patience level rising to its limits. "So I don't know."

"Bloody hell you wouldn't know." A vein pulsed next to the Scot's temple. "When I find 'im, I'm gonna bloody ring his lil-"

"Killing 'im won't solve anythin'…" North nonchalantly glanced up from his book and he gave Scotland a smirking grin. "Besides, if ye killed 'im, he'd just come back as a ghost and bother ye some more, if not 'nough already."

Scotland stared incredulously at North in a mute rage. He dug his nails into the back of an empty sofa and sighed heavily through his nostrils. He opened his mouth to rebuke the brunette, but thin, pale arms snaked around his waist and a small body pressed against him from behind.

"'Ey Scotty!" The petite Ireland giggled childishly.

Despite the fact that he and North were twins, they were polar opposites and looked nothing alike. Ireland was loud and outgoing while his other half was quiet and reserved; Ireland was a red head and North was a brunette. The only things they shared were their parents and their large, round golden-brown eyes.

Scotland bit his lower lip and twisted around to face the hug attacker. He looked down on the boy and arched his eyebrows at what Ireland was donning so shamelessly. "Ireland?"

"Yeah, Scotty?" Ireland grinned up at Scotland with a toothy and mischievous grin.

"Are you wearing me kilt?"

"Yes'sir!" Ireland released his prisoner and held up the edges of the cerulean blue kilt. "It's comfy and breezy!" He rotated his hips in a circular fashion for the full effect.

Scotland and North did a double take. Then, cautiously, North asked, "Are ye…wearin' it traditionally?"

Ireland nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I am. I wanted to know how Scotty feels when 'e does 'is cer'monies for 'is ancestory."

Scotland finally remembered that he was angry at Ireland for taking it in the first place, but now he was livid that the boy was wearing it; and, to make it worse, traditionally of all things! He snapped and howled, "Ireland, I'm gonna kill ye, ye bloody brat!"

**Note from sister: This was my first Hetalia fanfic and my first fanfic in general, so let my sister know, Little Bookwyrm, know what you think. Since the characters were OC (and I know that there is an "official" Scotland that a fan made) this is my own spin on the characters based on the stereotyping of the country and its people research I did. And if you don't know what wearing a kilt "traditionally" is, it involves no clothing underneath at all. That's right boys and girls that even includes your panties. :U**

**So I guess, review and if you want more, ask! (: **


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